


Play Nice, Play Pharah

by 22kitkats



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 16:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12939456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/22kitkats/pseuds/22kitkats
Summary: It's Ugly Sweater Party time at Overwatch HQ and Fareeha still has a crush on the beautiful Satya after pining for a while.





	Play Nice, Play Pharah

Fareeha tugged on the collar of her sweater, stretching it all the way out. Jesse, sitting next to her at the bar, laughed at her from behind his shot glass.

  
“You’re looking mighty comfortable, ‘Reeha,” he said, his deep voice mocking her. She glared at him. He raised his eyebrows and took a shot, gasping a little.

  
“You look just like your momma when you do that,” he told her. “It’s a bit spooky. Especially with the, uh, outfit.”

  
He was referring to the matching sweaters Fareeha and her mother were rocking. It had been at Ana’s request, and Fareeha loved her mother. However, that did not mean she loved the sweaters. But it was Overwatch’s first Ugly Sweater Party, and the Amaris were going to win.

  
Probably. As Fareeha looked around the room, observing her friends chat with each other, she noted that there were plenty of godawful holiday sweaters. Lena and Emily had on matching homemade light-up sweaters in a garish red depicting different reindeers blinking around. Reinhardt had lined up little plush hammers to look like a family. Bastion, poor thing, just had draped yarn over himself. It’s a bit hard to find or make a sweater when you’re not anywhere near human shaped and also somewhat of a public enemy. Genji and Hanzo were both wearing homemade Shimada sweaters and were pointedly ignoring each other.

And Satya. Never a jeans wearer, she had woven herself a blue dress out of hard light. It looked the same as her usual work dress at a glance, but it shimmered as she moved, different areas lighting up with icicles at different angles. It was subtle, and stunning, and nowhere near ugly. Fareeha felt her cheeks warm as Satya made eye contact with her from across the room, seemingly disinterested in her conversation with Jamison. Fareeha turned her seat fast enough to almost fall out of it, suddenly interested in the drinks provided. Jesse smirked into his drink.

  
“Not a word from you,” she hissed, pulling the bottom of her sweater down to look busy.

  
“Yes ma’am,” Jesse replied, sucking his cheeks in as not to smile. He’d been watching her watch Satya for months now.

  
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go check on security.” It was a useless task. The revamped Gibraltar had a state of the art security system, guards everywhere, and oh yeah, a room full of super soldiers in ugly sweaters. But it would get her out of the hot room. She hopped of the stool and strode towards the exit. She knew eyes were on her- they always were- and she tried to give off the typical Pharah vibe. Without her Raptora suit, she always felt a little vulnerable, but she was a highly qualified soldier nonetheless.

  
But after she heaved open the door and rounded the corner to the craggly rock-filled exit, she leaned against the wall and sighed heavily. She knew she was not supposed to develop feelings for any of her coworkers, but Satya’s dress was causing her issues. She needed to clear her head.

  
It was easier to do outside. It was mid-December, and snow was falling lazily as fall leaves to the ground. Wreaths and non-denominational decorations were draped everywhere. The cold pricked her nose, and she tucked her hands under her arms. She crunched her way through the frozen snow over to the edge of the cliff, and plopped down on a largeish rock under the protection of an overhang. She sat and shivered for several minutes, just enough for the cold to nip at the skin behind her ears and make her consider going back inside. Just as she wiped at the snot beginning to drip out of her nose, she heard a pair of footsteps crunching lightly up to her.

  
It was Satya. Without asking, she pulled herself a new circular chair out of hard light and gracefully folded her legs to sit on it. She didn’t look cold, but then again she would be the one that was too professional to be bothered by the weather.

  
“The competition is beginning soon. People are wondering where you are,” she said. It was a question wrapped in a statement. Satya’s voice was always so steady and calming.  
“I will be back inside in a minute. I wanted to check on security,” Fareeha replied, having very obviously not checked on security.

  
Satya raised one eyebrow. “There is no security over here,” she said. And she was right. Because of the cold, it was chillingly silent, the only sound being from the crash of the waves far below and Fareeha’s hot breath. She sighed.

  
Satya opened her mouth to speak, her words coming out slowly and carefully. “Do you… participate in any other holiday activity besides the mandatory sweater party?”

  
Fareeha smiled. “I usually participate in whatever my men are doing. There is not a lot of space for holidays on missions.”

  
“I understand,” replied Satya. “At Vishkar we had small holiday celebrations, and there were none that interested me. We had only one tradition that everyone enjoyed.”

  
She lifted her prosthetic arm above Fareeha, and from her palm shone a small, pine-like plant. A shiver rocked Fareeha when she recognized it.  
“Mistletoe,” breathed Fareeha. “It is beautiful.”

  
Satya smiled, and looked Fareeha in the eyes. “It is,” she replied.

  
Fareeha felt her heart pound against her skin. It was so brazen and so out there, and so Satya. There was little subtlety in that beautiful woman.

  
Fareeha was the one to lean in first. They met in the middle, and pressed their lips together. It was hesitant and soft, the yearning that they had felt for so long being realized. They were young. Satya’s lips were hot. Fareeha melted, content. She felt heavy, and finalized, and in love.

  
After a small peck, they pulled apart, and looked each other in their warm, brown eyes. Satya’s cheeks were bright red. Finally, the cold had come crashing in.


End file.
